


The Fool Who Plays It Cool

by SomethingBlue42



Series: Suptober 2020 [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cellist Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Has Panic Attacks, Dean Winchester Has Trust Issues, Dean Winchester Has a Crush on Castiel, Dean Winchester is Protective of Sam Winchester, Gen, M/M, Musician Castiel (Supernatural), Musician Dean Winchester, Professor Castiel (Supernatural), Protective Dean Winchester, Rock Star Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Loves Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester's Friends at Stanford, Stanford Student Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:48:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27219685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomethingBlue42/pseuds/SomethingBlue42
Summary: Suptober Day 11: Rock and RollSequel to "So Let It Out and Let It In"Dean does a fundraising gig at Stanford and is surprised to find that a certain cellist is unforgettable.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Series: Suptober 2020 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960396
Comments: 8
Kudos: 74





	The Fool Who Plays It Cool

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not super satisfied with this. I may rework it later.

Dean's heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest, adrenaline scorching through his veins. He shifted from foot to foot, forearms resting on the guitar around his neck, one wrist casually crossed over the other; his attempt to appear more put together than he actually felt. Air in through his nose, out through his mouth, eyes closed, he ran through the first song in his head, the first verse, the first three chords. He could do this. He could do this. He could do this.

A hand on his shoulder made him gasp, eyes opening wide, and his head swiveled to find his brother who's face shifted from curious to beaming smile in half a second and Dean felt his own lips tip up, the hurricane in his chest settling down to a breeze. The kid always knew how to bring him back. He rolled his shoulders, Sam's hand falling away, and refocused on the man giving his introduction. He checked his watch.

"Dean of Music is a douche," Sam muttered out the corner of his mouth, and Dean snorted.

"How do you know, Pre-Law?" Dean cut his eyes at Sam, who looked away.

"I have electives…"

Dean turned to face him fully. "You're taking music electives? Why?"

Sam raised his eyebrows and gave him a blank look, his shoulders shrugging in that infuriating way he'd done since he was 10, and Dean bit back an admonishment. "It's just music theory. Plus I like the professor."

"Oh yeah?" Dean lifted an eyebrow before narrowing his eyes, turning to face Sam head-on. "Who is this professor? What's he teaching you?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "He's really good, Dean. You-"

Dean held up a hand, his tone haughty. "I'll be the judge of that. When can I meet him?"

Sam smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well you've actually _met_ him alread-"Sam cut himself off, his eyes going wide, and he grabbed Dean's shoulders, giving him a shove out of the tunnel as the sound of applause engulfed him. Dean managed to get his feet under him, taking slow, measured steps up to the stage, trying to catch his breath. Dean usually took a deep breath before stepping out, but since he'd missed his cue - thanks Sam - he missed the chance, and now Dean felt like he was drowning. He made eye contact with Benny, who gave him a nod as he mounted the risers from the other side, the rest of the band falling in behind him. 

The crowd's roar seemed to muffle as he took his place in front of the microphone, keenly aware that the front row was mere feet from him. Dean busied himself with adjusting the microphone stand, trying to get control over his shaking hands, catch his breath. He wanted to tell himself that Bing Concert Hall was a blip in the sea of venues he'd played. While still sold out, the turnout was infinitesimal compared to the numbers he'd drawn at Coachella or Mad Cool. The audience consisted of college kids, faculty, and townies, and even the most critical ear in the music department couldn't hold a candle to the Recording Academy or Voting Academy.

Dean steeled himself as he looked up and knew immediately that it was a mistake. A flash of heat surged through him, and his vision tunneled. He was going to pass out in front of this tiny crowd full of nobody important at probably the least known venue on the face of the planet, and his brother would have to transfer to a state school out of embarrassment. 

"How's everyone doin' tonight?" He heard himself say, and the roar that engulfed him sucked what little breath had been in his lungs clean out of them. 

Movement out of the corner of his eye drew his attention, and he was surprised to recognize the eyes he locked onto, the first riff of "Hey Jude" spiraling in the back of his brain like a musical bookmark. It was the professor from Sam's campus tour, and Dean marveled that he was able to remember him so clearly a good nine months later despite the millions of new faces he'd encountered since then. Granted, the professor had very kindly allowed them to interrupt his rehearsal and had managed to keep Dean from melting down like he was about to now. 

Dean felt his lips pull into a small smile at the memory of the cellist's face as he'd brought a handkerchief up to dab at Dean's wet face, the calm thunder of his voice as asked, _Your name is Dean? I'm Castiel Novak. I teach cello…_

Castiel gave him a nod of acknowledgment, and Dean felt his chest loosen inexplicably. He looked down at his feet, tapping one of the pedals there just for something to do. When Dean looked up again, he was surprised to find his brother climbing into the empty seat next to the professor and leaning in to whisper something in his ear. Castiel's eyes trained on something far away as he listened before giving a small nod, and he met Dean's eyes again. His lips twitched up in a ghost of a smile, and Dean looked away again, cheeks heating as he stepped back and looked over his shoulder at Garth behind the drums, giving him the nod to count them in.

#

Dean's body felt like a live wire, still vibrating from the music and the crowd. The band was high-fiving each other around him as they gathered in the small dressing room backstage. Someone handed him a towel, and he took it, pressing it to his face and breathing in the industrial detergent that never failed to remind him of his childhood spent in motel rooms and extended stays. 

He shook his head, pulling it away, and his eyes locked on ocean blue across the room. A flurry of notes he couldn't place buzzed along the nape of his neck, and he tucked them away for later examination as his viewpoint widened. His brother was shaking hands and sharing hugs with other band members, Castiel quietly observing just a step behind him, though his eyes once again drifted to Dean. The professor gave Sam a quick glance before hesitantly stepping away, and Dean tossed the towel aside to step towards him.

"That was very impressive." Castiel's tone was formal as he held out his hand, and Dean had to laugh, shaking his head as he took it, feeling the hard callouses on the tips of the professor's fingers.

"Thank you. I gave it my best."

"I'm C-"

"I know who you are." Dean enjoyed the look of surprise that quickly passed over Castiel's face before it was replaced with his regular somber expression. He began to release Dean's hand, but Dean held tight as he remembered something. He tugged Castiel in more, eyes narrowing. "You the one teaching my brother music theory?"

Castiel gave him a patient smile. "I think you know Sam is already a bit of an expert at music theory even if he hasn't mastered an instrument."

Dean grinned. "Tried to teach him one have you?"

"Several."

"How's that working out for you?"

Castiel winced, and Dean laughed openly at that. The sound caught Sam's attention, and he was smiling from ear to ear as he made his way over to his brother. His smile faded a bit as he looked down at Dean and Castiel's hands still clasped in a handshake, and it turned into a bit of a smirk as he looked at his brother.

"Great show," Sam said softly, coming in for a hug, and Castiel took a step back, running a hand over the back of his head as the brothers embraced. "You reek."

"Thanks." Dean grabbed for the towel again, wiping at his neck. "You try doing an honest day's work you'll see how it is." Sam gave him a shove rolling his eyes.

"Dean, you've met him before but-"

"I remember him." Dean tossed the towel over his shoulder, and Sam's mouth popped open in surprise but recovered quickly, looking to Castiel, who nodded, eyes falling on Dean again. 

"Cas is my-"

"He told me."

Sam threw his hands in the air. "Well, I guess the only thing left is to make you guys dinner reservations."

Castiel's head tipped to the side, regarding Sam in confusion, and Dean threw out a hand in a _what the fuck?_ gesture, his neck heating up. Dean was just about to retort when he noticed his head of security peek in.

"'ey ya, Sam?" Doug questioned in his ridiculous Minnesota drawl, and Sam looked over his shoulder. "Got a group' a ladies' ere that claim ta know ya." 

The band all wooed and whistled, Dean nearly doubling over laughing as Sam turned red to the roots of his hair. He oomphed as Sam punched him in the gut as he walked jerkily over to the door, slipping out and closing it behind him. Dean coughed as he righted himself, catching Castiel's eyes again, and cleared his throat.

"Sorry. Kid lacks a certain social grace so the idea of him being able to get one lady much less a _group_ of them is just… well…" Dean chuckled, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

"Sam's very socially adept," Castiel said, his brows creased in confusion, and Dean's smile faded a bit, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Oh yeah? Tell me about him."

And Castiel did. The person Castiel described sounded nothing like the gangly teenager he'd dropped off at the dorms at the beginning of September. Dean kept stealing glances at the small group of friends Sam had ushered in, their conversation rising and falling like the tide, Sam's laughter a familiar melody among a discordant tune. Dean was suddenly acutely aware that he was on the outside looking in.

He and Castiel ended up on a couch across the room, Dean sprawled out and slouched against the corner, legs spread wide. Castiel sat on his hip, one leg tucked under him, an elbow resting on the back to rest his cheek against his fist. The beers in their hands had long grown warm, but no one had come to refresh them, a sure sign that Dean was ignoring the rest of the room effectively enough to give his team "do not disturb" vibes. Not that he cared much, enthralled by the musician in front of him. They'd talked about Sam and then music theory and then the cello before arguing over the correct arrangement of "Kashmir." Then it was debating the correct order of Led Zeppelin albums from best to sonic perfection followed by a rundown of classical concertos Dean hadn't ever heard but now had a pretty long list in his phone to check out. He was fixing a few spellings on the said list when he felt Castiel shift on the cushion next to him.

"Sam has some pretty… interesting stories from growing up on the road." 

Dean blinked hard, his head turning, and he was pinned by that ethereal blue stare. "He… he told you shit from when we were kids?"

Castiel's tone was cautious. "From touring with you, yes."

Dean heaved a sigh. "Oh, uh, yeah. Well, the rock and roll lifestyle ain't exactly a trip to church camp." Dean chuckled.

Castiel's lips tipped up in a small smile. "He told me how you missed accepting your first grammy because you were watching him compete in a spelling bee."

Dean's mouth popped open, and the look on his face must have been pretty comical because Castiel laughed, a big one, lips pulling back to give him a wide, gummy smile. Dean felt himself blush as he looked away, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

"Yeah well, someone had to be there so we could tease him about misspelling' inexorable' for the rest of his life."

"Your father wasn't-"

Dean sat up abruptly. "I should really make the rounds."

"Oh," Castiel's leg slid out from under him, his head lifting from his fist. "Yes, of course. I'm so sorry for monopolizing so much of your time."

They stood, and Dean held out a hand. "Nah it was nice talking with you, Cas. Good to know Sammy's got a guy like you looking out of him. Since I can't." Dean's throat grew thick on the last word, and he cleared it subtly, but somehow Castiel seemed to understand, a shift in his eyes making Dean's neck grow hot. 

"You just performed a concert that raised more than half of the music department's budget for the year and if the rumors are true the law library received a substantial donation at the beginning of the year. I believe you're looking out for him just fine."

Dean frowned. "That was supposed to be anonymous."

Castiel smiled. "It is, but the rumor mill among the faculty is prodigious."

Dean cracked a smile, a chuckle bubbling up past his throat. "Well-"

"Hey Dean." Sam bounded up to him breathless, cheeks pink, and Dean could smell the beer on his breath. 

"How much you had there kiddo?"

Sam waved a hand and made a face. "You wanna come out to the diner with us? They got killer pie." Sam had jutted his thumb over his shoulder, and Dean's eyes followed it, eyes landing on the group just as all eyes skittered away from him. A small blond with curly hair and a beauty mark on his cheek looked up, but her eyes were on Sam.

Dean smirked, throwing an arm around his brother. "Sure thing, Sammy. You gettin' a bit of cherry pie yourself over there." Sam shoved him hard, and Dean just laughed.

"Don't be a jerk. Are you coming or not?"

"Yeah, yeah don't be a bitch." Dean waved a hand and reached to grab a hoodie, wrestling it over his head.

"Cas you coming?" Sam's voice was light, a quick jerk of his head, and Castiel looked between the two brothers before giving his head a shake.

"No, no you all have fun. I should be getting back." Castiel looked at his watch then back to Sam. "Thank you for inviting me, Sam. It was a real treat." He turned to Dean and extended his hand. "You really are quite magnificent. I'll be adding you to my Spotify rotation."

Dean felt himself blush deeply, something that only embarrassed him further, but he managed to choke out a laugh, and a mumbled, "Thanks man."

"Did you get his number?" Sam's elbow jabbed his bicep sharply, and Dean's eyes widened.

"Sam I don't-"

Sam snatched up Dean's phone from the table and keyed in the code before Dean could even form words to protest. He held the phone out to Castiel, who eyed it before looking between the two, unsure. Sam sighed. "Dean, sucks at making friends. I've never seen him have a conversation that long with someone he's barely met. Please be his friend."

"Hey!" Dean exclaimed, and Castiel shook his head, taking the phone and keying in his number, sneaking glances at Dean out of the corner of his eye.

"I too have a hard time making friends." Castiel handed the phone over to Dean, who took it without looking at the other man. 

Sam snatched it again and shot out a text, a soft ding coming from Castiel's pocket. "There now you have his too." Sam beamed at both of them. 

"Thank you, Sam." Castiel gave him a patient smile before his eyes cut to Dean, and they managed to grin at each other. "I'll just… take my leave." He gave a short nod before moving towards the exit, lifting a hand in acknowledgment of the group who gave a chorus of goodbyes as he stepped out.

Dean let out a slow breath. He jumped when Sam's arm landed around his shoulders, his brother's goofy face entirely too close to his. "You like him."

"Shut up, Sam."

"You like him _a lot_." 

"I said shut up, Sam. Or I'll tell Marilynn Monroe over there about the time you peed your pants in Moscow and your underwear froze to your junk."

Sam's face screwed up in indignation before his head turned to find the girl in question, her eyes darting back to her friends as soon as Sam's lighted on her. The dopey grin that spread across his brother's face made Dean shake his head. When Sam looked at him again, his face was stern.

"Her name is Jess and she's also pre-Law and I need you to be my super cool rockstar big brother or I'll show Cas those pictures of you skinny dipping at the hot springs in Iceland. Before you jumped in." Dean's face went sober as Sam's screwed up in mock contemplation. "How cold was it there? 30 degrees? 28?"

Dean slugged him hard in the chest. "Alright little brother, alright. We'll call a truce for tonight."

"Seriously, Dean, make sure you-"

Dean flapped a hand at him. "I promise to share only my best, most bad ass, rock and roll stories so you look super cool in front of your girl, alright?"

Sam grinned at him, cheeks pinkening as he turned to wrap his arms fully around Dean, and for once, Dean didn't grouse or wait for it to just be over. He wrapped his arms entirely around Sam's ribs and pressed his face into his shoulder, reminding himself that this was what he'd worked so hard for. Even if it meant Sam drifting away from him.

"Hey, you're the best big brother in the whole world, have I ever told you that?" Sam asked, pulling back, and Dean blinked before removing and giving a scoff.

" _Only_ the world? What about the rest of the universe? You got some other big brother I don't know about?"

Sam rolled his eyes, giving Dean a shove. "Jerk."

Dean grinned. "Bitch." 

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews/Kudos are <3
> 
> [Visit me on Tumblr](https://desti-feeels.tumblr.com)  
> 


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